Spaceport: Reckoning
© Aubrey Ross, January 2008
All Rights Reserved

Everything about “His Highness” annoyed Rana Jabulayni. From his artfully outlined eyes, to his flamboyant attire, he flaunted his power and wealth. Gems sparkled on his fingers and the chunky jewels adorning his elaborate necklace had to strain his narrow shoulders. Thick silver hair flowed away from his sharp-featured face and an immaculate goatee accented his pointed chin. Some might find him handsome, for a man well past his prime. But Rana saw cruelty in the firm press of his thin lips and the frequent fisting of his long-fingered hands.

“We welcome the technological advancements you have proposed and the bride price is more than adequate.” Empress Bakula wisely avoided Rana’s gaze as she added, “My daughter is honored by your generosity.”

Honored to be sold like a brood mare to a man twice her age? Honored to save her mother from financial ruin with a lifetime of subjugation and discontent? If Rana’s father hadn’t instilled a sense of responsibility and pride in Rana, she would have turned her back on her manipulative mother long ago. However, Rana knew exorbitant taxes and unfair policies were crippling the people of Devaunt. After exhausting her other options, Rana had agreed to participate in this negotiation in exchange for key economic reforms. Once King Vega’s generous bride price refilled Devaunt’s coffers, the empress could afford to be humane again.

“Shall we move on to the second phase of the negotiation?” King Vega asked.

Rana perched on the edge of a high-backed chair, the only position that allowed her to breathe in the stifling gown. The shimmering material appeared delicate and feminine, but the fabric pressed against her torso with amazing inflexibility. Her figure dipped dramatically at her waist and swelled into an exaggerated décolletage. Before coming to Seronite, she had only seen garments this impractical in history vids.

“Our sexual compatibility must be established. I have selected my witness. Have you done the same?” He spoke to the empress not Rana. Another annoying habit.

Let them determine if they were sexually compatible. The entire ordeal was a pointless humiliation. Vega had insisted Rana be examined by his physician before the negotiations began. There was no physical reason she couldn’t bear children. She had to allow Vega to fuck her; she didn’t have to enjoy it.

Empress Bakula finally met her daughter’s gaze. “Who did you select?”

“Kashi.”

“She is a servant. I hardly think --”

“I was led to believe the choice was mine.” The Seronite found eye contact combative, so she lowered her gaze to her hands before adding, “I would be more comfortable if this were a private exchange between my betrothed and myself.”

A chair scraped over floorboards and a blur of purple warned her that Vega was in motion. “This is a political union, my dear. The treaty will benefit both our worlds.” He moved in front of her and pressed one of her hands between his. The gaudy sparkle of multiple rings hypnotized her. “My first marriage was a love match, yet she was unable to give me sons. Perhaps we will be better suited for procreation. Our compatibility must be witnessed, but the details are up to us. If you fancy a servant, I have no objection.”

An odd undercurrent hinted at hidden meanings. Did he often fancy servants? “I appreciate your understanding.”

“Intta, have Kashi brought to the gold salon.” He motioned for everyone to rise. “If all goes as I expect, we will set a date for the wedding in the morning.”